


Monsters

by Idea Turnstile (jatty)



Category: Pierce the Veil, Sleeping With Sirens
Genre: Attempted Kidnapping, M/M, Rape Recovery, Sexual Assault
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-12-05
Updated: 2017-01-09
Packaged: 2018-09-06 14:43:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 2
Words: 12,443
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8756674
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jatty/pseuds/Idea%20Turnstile
Summary: All Kellin wanted was a peaceful place to text his boyfriend during his break at work. So why did the man have to intrude?





	1. Chapter 1

Kellin sat out back on the sidewalk behind the restaurant. It was dark and his boss had cautioned him against taking his breaks out there in the past, worried about feral animals attacking him for getting too close to the dumpster or drunken guests from the bar causing him problems as they stumbled to their vehicles. Most guests didn’t go back behind the building, though, and Kellin found the dull yellow glow of the security lamp by the back door kept most of the raccoons away. He was more at risk of getting eaten alive by mosquitos than anything else, but it was a risk he was willing to take in order to text Vic in private on his breaks. 

Back here, he could laugh at whatever Vic said to him and not have to feel self-conscious about it. He could grin like an idiot as he typed back his replies or snapped blurry, poorly-lit selfies to send his partner. They’d been together three years and had just started living in the same apartment, sending them back into the nauseatingly sweet throes of the Honeymoon phase once again.

Kellin had started to feel that the thrill of saying “I’ll see you when I get home” in place of “I’ll see you tomorrow” would never wear off. 

As he hurriedly typed another reply to Vic, the back door to the kitchen opened and a torrent of water came rushing out onto the pavement, causing Kellin to stand up and move a little further from the door—grimacing at the foul smell of the mop water.

“Oh! Sorry, Kellin! I didn’t see you out there!” Thomas, the dishwasher, called, suddenly poking his head out of the doorway and spotting Kellin on the concrete.

“It’s cool,” Kellin answered, already too wrapped up in what Vic was saying to him to get upset about being forced a few feet closer to the smelly dumpster.

“Are you coming back in?” Thomas asked.

“Yeah, in a few. I’ve got ten minutes left of my break,” Kellin said, peeling his eyes away from his phone in order to offer Thomas a smile. “Just leave the door propped for me, yeah?”

“Right. Well, have a good night,” Thomas said, ducking back in the doorway and letting the door close slowly until only a sliver of light bled out through the gap between it and the metal frame.

_I’ve got dinner ready for when you get home,_ Vic texted him, adding a heart-eyed emoji that made Kellin feel weak in the knees.

_It’ll be another couple hours,_ Kellin texted back, adding a frowning emoji. 

_That’s OK. It’s not really ready yet,_ Vic said, winking. 

Kellin rolled his eyes and typed a few more cheesy replies, giving Vic compliments he really didn’t deserve on his cooking. In the corner of his eye he saw a new vehicle pull into the lot and park, but didn’t pay it any more mind than that. His attention was solely focused on Vic and guessing what his boyfriend had made him for dinner.

He only looked up from his phone again when he saw a man walking across the parking lot toward him. Even then, his mind was elsewhere and he was quick to look back at his screen. The sidewalk leading around to the front door started close to where Kellin was sitting so he didn’t sense anything amiss until the man’s shadow was cast over him.

“Th-the front door is just around that way, Sir,” Kellin said, slipping his phone into his pocket out of habit the way he did whenever a manager caught him on his phone. 

“Just around that way?” The man asked, looking past Kellin and staring in the wrong direction. Something about his mannerism and his voice put Kellin off and he swallowed anxiously.

“No, that way,” Kellin said, pointing away from the dumpster toward the sidewalk and the lit pathway. “Have you been here before?” Kellin asked as he slowly stood up from the ground.

“Yeah… Yeah, lots of times.” The man was large, built like a football player with broad shoulders and thick arms. His head was shaved bald and his eyes, even in the dim glow of the security lamps, glowed with a wickedness Kellin couldn’t mistake for anything else. His instincts told him to slip inside the back door, just dive for it and slam it in the man’s face if he tried to give chase, but then he thought about what his bosses would do to him if the customer came inside and told them Kellin had been rude to him. What if he had some kind of handicap? What if he didn’t understand how misconstrued his behavior could be?

“Um… D-Do you need shown the way?” Kellin asked, not sure how this man could say he’d been there before then act like he didn’t know how to find the front door.

“I was here last week, don’t you remember?” The man said, sounding angry. 

Kellin flinched and sidestepped closer to the back door.

“N-No, I-I’m sorry,” he stammered, his mind racing as he tried to remember where he might’ve seen this man in his section. An athletic man like him would blend in with their evening crowd, but this guy was huge. There would be no missing him. Kellin didn’t think he’d ever waited on him before in his life.

“I sit in that pretty little girl’s section and I watch you. They always put you two in the same room together, you know that?”

He meant Catherine. Kellin got along well with her when she got along with no one else so the managers often paired them up so her temper wouldn’t affect the other workers. Even then, Kellin couldn’t remember seeing him.

“I-I’ll tell her you’re here for dinner. Sh-She remembers all her regulars. I bet she’ll be happy to see you,” Kellin said, moving close enough to the door to grab it. The moment his fingers graced the metal handle, however, the man sprung for him—his meaty hand closing over Kellin’s on the handle and yanking the door shut violently. Locking it.

Kellin was so frightened his couldn’t even scream from the fear. His throat sealed itself and all he could do was stare down at his hand encased in the man’s huge fist. 

“What do you want?” Kellin asked, hoping to sound threatening when in reality his voice came out as a rough wheeze. He couldn’t remember having done anything to this man—he couldn’t remember dropping any orders on his way out of the kitchen or doing something to Catherine that might set off a protective (or obsessive) guest. He didn’t touch her, he didn’t hug her out of friendship—he had a boyfriend; he didn’t want Vic to ever come and see and get jealous. “What do you want from me!?” Kellin asked again when the man continued to stare down at him Kellin’s hand trapped in his grip. 

“I see you when you wait your tables,” he said, squeezing Kellin’s hand so hard it felt like his fingers would snap around the metal door handle. “I watch you take your breaks. Every night at this time. Every night you’re working… Where were you last night? I came here to see you and you were gone. You’re never off Thursdays. Where were you?”

“Th-That’s none of your business,” Kellin choked, letting out a shrill whimper as the man started crushing his hand some more. He tried pulling away, but it did no good—his hand was trapped in the man’s hot fist, stuck wrapped around the door handle.

It took him by surprise when the man’s left hand crashed against his cheek moments later, sending a shockwave of pain through his jaw and his temple. 

“Where were you last night?” He asked again.

“A-At home! I t-traded shifts,” Kellin stammered, trying his hardest to get his hand free. 

“You knew I had plans, didn’t you? You wanted to leave me here waiting like a fool!”

Kellin opened his mouth to protest, but was silenced with another blow across his face. This time, his head cracked against the steel door and through the bleary pain he was grateful. The impact was hard—someone inside must’ve heard, right? Someone was going to come outside to investigate. 

Only Kellin was yanked away from the door after that and thrown onto the pavement and the door never opened so much as a crack. His skull collided with the wet pavement, the dirty mop water soaking the backs of his shirt and jeans as well as his hair. He let out a groan and tried to roll over onto his side, but the man grabbed him by his shirt collar and started pulling—dragging him toward the cars. 

Once he realized what was happening, Kellin began frantically kicking his legs, trying to yank his body away from the man who easily overpowered him.

“No! Let go of me! I didn’t do anything to you!” Kellin screamed, thumping his fists against the man’s thick arm as he was dragged across the pavement without mercy. When he nearly succeeded in breaking the man’s grip on his collar, Kellin’s attacker doubled over on him, wrapping his arms around Kellin’s waist instead and picking him up off the ground. Kellin kicked his legs desperately, but even when his feet collided with the man’s thighs, he didn’t loosen his grip. He hauled Kellin across the lot toward a white SUV which had the passenger side back door open a crack.

Kellin screamed even louder, knowing that if the man got him into the back of that SUV, there was no way out for him. The man grunted and growled as he half-carried, half dragged Kellin toward the vehicle. Each time he’d lose his strength and let Kellin’s feet drop onto the pavement, Kellin tried to wrestle away. He tried everything to get free, but the minute he decided to try playing dead weight and let his legs drop out from under him, the man grabbed him by his hair and started yanking. Kellin felt strands breaking, felt chunks of it yank mercilessly at his scalp, threatening to come lose. 

Tears started rushing down his cheeks as the fear and hopelessness descended on him. The SUV was only a few paces away and no matter what Kellin did, the man didn’t let go and no one came out to rescue him. 

“Please! Please, don’t do this! I’m sorry! I don’t know what you want!” Kellin screamed, his whole body shaking as he twisted his arms around in his attacker’s grip. 

“Shut up!” The man screamed, letting go of Kellin’s hair in favor of shoving his body forward—sending Kellin face-first into the back end of the SUV. His nose cracked against the smooth plastic, sending pain back through his skull and making him dizzy. He stumbled a moment, but before he could gather himself, he was pushed again—this time toward the SUV’s door which had opened more.

“No! Help me! Help!” He screamed as loud as could as the man fisted his hand in Kellin’s hair again. Kellin pressed back up against the man’s body as he was guided toward the open door of the SUV. He tried setting his feet on the ground, but his sneakers scratched against the pavement until his knees at last collided with the seat inside the SUV. 

“Quit fighting—Stop fighting it! You know you want this! Why do you always have to play games with me!?” 

“I’m not! Let go!” Kellin thrashed his entire body, scratching at the man’s arms and kicking back with his legs. He even tried throwing his head back in hopes of hitting the man somehow, but the back of his skull merely banged against the man’s shoulder—hurting Kellin more than him. He was desperate to keep his body out of the SUV, but it was all in vain. The man pushed him forward and Kellin fell onto the seat. He tried to scramble forward to reach the other side—to grab the door and crawl out that way—but the man immediately crawled in after him and pinned him by his legs. 

Kellin let out a low grunt of pain, the pressure making his leg bones feel as if they were about to snap. He heard the door slam and let out a sharp whimper of fear. 

He was trapped. The man had him trapped. He clawed at the seat and tried to yank his legs free, but to no avail. The man sat atop him and watched, letting him exhaust himself until—at last—he laid still. He needed to conserve his energy. There _would_ be a chance to escape and he’d find it… He just needed to stay calm. 

“Wh-what do you want from me?” Kellin sobbed, squirming as the man moved over top of him and came to sit on his thighs instead. Having the pressure off his legs came as a relief, but he didn’t bother kicking them now that they were free. Kicking the man in this position would just agitate him—it would never be enough to get him to move off. And if he did move, where else could he go in the cramped backseat that _wasn’t_ overtop Kellin’s body?

“I want you to shut up and hold still. You keep playing games like this and I’m going to have to hurt you. Don’t make me hurt you.” His voice was so calm, even as he flicked open the blade of a knife. Kellin gasped at the sound, his entire body going rigid when he felt cold steel press into the back of his neck. “Are you going to be good?”

Kellin trembled, staring ahead of him at the door—the handle and the lock above it. 

“Answer me!” All at once, the man’s demeanor changed and the blade of the knife jabbed into the back of Kellin’s arm—causing him to scream as the searing pain tore through him. “Answer me! Are you going to behave!?”

“Yes!—Yes! I’m sorry!” Kellin whimpered. They were in a busy parking lot—there were people everywhere. Someone was going to see, he told himself. Someone was going to walk by and call the cops or tell management. They’d notice him missing any minute and send someone to search for him. If he stayed calm, this would be over soon and he wouldn’t have to be hurt anymore. If he behaved…

Kellin sobbed hard as he felt the man grab him by his shoulder. He was rolled onto his back, still paralyzed with pain from the stab wound to his arm that he could feel soaking through his sleeve and then the fabric of a seat beneath him. The man repositioned himself to sit on Kellin’s hips, then flashed the blade again before using it to cut through Kellin’s shirt. 

The next thing he knew, his hands were being tied together with strips of fabric and a bloodied ball of cloth was being pushed into his mouth as well. Being smothered made his sense of panic that much worse, his nose already stuffy from crying and being smashed into the back of the SUV making breathing almost impossible. He had to struggle to take even the smallest breath, and that sent more agony down his throat and into his chest. He couldn’t scream anymore, and was forced to stare up at his attacker silently, twisting his wrists around within the bindings as the man made short work of his button and zipper.

“Be good. And keep your mouth closed.” The man flipped him over onto his stomach again and yanked on the waistband of his jeans, tugging them down Kellin’s thighs before grabbing his boxer briefs and lowering them as well. 

Kellin screamed pitifully as he felt the cold air wash over his skin, the embarrassment and vulnerability causing his cheeks to burn unbearably hot. He sobbed into the gag in his mouth, squeezing his eyes shut as he felt the man’s hands on his exposed flesh. They were nauseatingly warm and sent his body into shivers of repulsion until he started gagging—not that the man was put off by Kellin’s disgust. 

He pulled one of his hands away after Kellin gagged the second time, leading Kellin to believe for half a second that the man might be grossed out and wanting to stop, but then his warm palm slapped against Kellin’s bared skin harshly. The pain distracted from his nausea, spilling more tears from his eyes until—after ten blows—the man had Kellin sobbing and decided to end that phase of his victim’s humiliation. 

Kellin laid on the seat, shaking and sobbing into the gag as he rubbed his wrists raw against their bindings. He could hear the man digging through something in the pouch on the back of the passenger seat, then felt one of the warm hands return to his stinging thigh. 

“Be good now and this won’t hurt a bit,” he said, pushing his hand to the side in order to spread Kellin’s cheeks and expose his opening. 

Kellin let out a sharp cry and thrashed around a moment more—desperate to get free even though his situation was so bleak. He’d never been this exposed before, not with anyone besides Vic. He found some comfort in the darkness of the backseat, but he could still feel the man’s eyes examining his intimate places. 

He didn’t have long to dwell on it before the man took things further. Cold, wet fingers probed at his opening before two slipped inside at the same time. He let out a loud yelp, his body going tense against the intrusion. It did nothing to discourage his attacker and the man snickered at him as he jerked his fingers in and out until forcing a third inside. 

“Please don’t do this,” Kellin sobbed, trying to roll his hips away from the man’s hand. “Please! Please, please stop! I-I’ll do anything. Just stop!”

The man laughed at him again and began moving his fingers faster—his knuckles ripping at Kellin’s hole as they stretched him. Before long, he could feel a trail of blood make its way down his thigh—tickling and itching as it snaked across his skin. Breathing began to feel like the hardest thing to do and Kellin found himself gasping for air as the man continued assaulting him. He thought of Vic and how his partner was making him a dinner he’d never get to eat… What would Vic think happened to him when he never came home? Would he understand Kellin had been taken or murdered, or would he believe his boyfriend simply left him? 

Kellin squeaked when the man pulled his fingers away. He tried to roll onto his side to protect himself, but the man grabbed him by his hip and pinned him in position while stroking his cock and slicking it with lubricant. 

“Please don’t,” Kellin whimpered. “If you let me go I won’t tell anyone. I won’t say anything!” He tried to crawl forward, but the man moved from gripping his hip to grasping a fistful of his hair. Kellin screamed, his entire body going rigid as his head was yanked backwards in an unnatural position. He was held that way, pinned, as the man rutted the head of his penis against his opening. Kellin wanted to scream again, but the only noise which came out was a soft whimper. His throat clenched as the man began to pressing inside, stretching and tearing Kellin’s hole with every inch. 

Could he die from this? Kellin wondered. Could the stress of having this done be enough to stop his heart before this man ended his life with bullets or ropes or the knife? 

“There. You like that, huh? Feels good, doesn’t it?” The man kept asking him these things over and over as he carried out his assault, shaking Kellin by his head until he would answer. 

The horrifying ordeal seemed to go on forever. 

( ) ( ) ( )

Kellin lay across the backseat, sobbing into his arms as his lower half was left to slide off the seat onto the hard floor on the SUV. His jeans were tangled around his ankles and he whimpered as he tried to shift one of his feet free as the fabric tugged his joint in an unnatural way from how he’d fallen. The man was still looking him over and panting, Kellin could feel his eyes on the back of his neck, but it wasn’t long before Kellin heard the distinct sounds of him zipping his jeans back up and buckling his belt.

“So good… Just like I dreamed you’d be,” he said, running his warm hand up and down Kellin’s aching back. Kellin began to shiver under his touch, wanting desperately to squirm away but knowing that there was nowhere left for him to hide. 

The man continued to pet him and stroke him for a few more minutes, seeming to savor the moment, then opened the door of the SUV and climbed out. Kellin could feel the chill of the nighttime air on his skin, feeling it like knife cuts when the gentle gust of wind reached the trails of blood on his thighs.

In all his life, he’d never imagined he could feel so low, so helpless… So deserted.

The door slammed shut and Kellin lifted his head, sniffling as he looked around at the windows above him. He watched the man circle the car and open the driver’s side door to get in. His heart started pounding as he slowly pulled himself up onto the seat, a cry tearing itself out of his throat as he moved his abused thighs and tried to support his weight on his damaged arm. 

“Quiet down. We’ll get you home and take care of it soon enough,” the man said, his voice strained and rough. He spoke so calmly, but his words sent a bolt of fear through Kellin’s body, momentarily blocking out the pain. All he could feel was his heartbeat in his chest and his neck and his head—beating so hard he felt his ribs might crack under the pressure.

There was no mistaking what the man had said—what he was implying. He wanted to take Kellin back to his house. He didn’t feel he’d tortured Kellin enough and had much more in store for him.

Kellin let out a choked gasp as the engine started in the SUV. He had to do something and fast. There were people all around, but it was dark. The parking lot was packed with cars—someone had to be either coming or leaving who would see if he tried to escape. 

As the SUV began to back out of the parking spot, the automatic locks on the doors clicked. It was with a heavily shaking hand that Kellin reached out and grasped the lever before pulling it back and unlocking it again. It made a quiet pop, but the man didn’t seem to hear. He was still panting and had lowered his gaze to the heater as he fumbled with it to turn it on and clear the condensation off the windows. 

Kellin took a deep breath as he crawled closer to the door, knowing this was his only chance. The man wasn’t speeding through the parking lot, rather he went slow to avoid drawing attention. This was his only chance if he wanted to escape. If he waited until later, the SUV would be speeding down the freeway and though death seemed a better option that surviving whatever the man had next in mind, Kellin didn’t want to pick between the two.

His jeans were still tangled around his feet, his entire lower half exposed, but Kellin knew if he tried to pull them up, he’d attract attention. He needed his attacker to think he’d been broken, to think he was compliant. 

As soon as the heater clipped on in the car and the sound of the fans rushing the air out of the vents started, Kellin seized the door handle and pulled it. As soon as the door cracked open, the man slammed on the breaks—tossing Kellin painfully back against the seat—and whipped around.

“Hey! You stay down! Stay down!” He reached back and put his hand on Kellin’s thigh, but Kellin kicked him away and rushed forward toward the door. He shoved against and it and tumbled out onto the pavement—his palms and cheek scratching against the blacktop before his knees crashed into the ground as well.

Immediately, he let out a loud scream and pleaded for help as he pulled himself up onto all fours. The man was opening the driver’s side door, but then slammed it shut again just as quickly. Kellin, believing he must’ve seen someone approaching, screamed again and tried crawling forward. 

His entire body was shaking terribly and it was hard to see through the curtain of hair matted to his face. The lot appeared empty, but he could see the kitchen door ahead of him and moved to crawl for it desperately. He could still hear the engine of the SUV, and a fresh bolt of fear surged through him as he heard it rev.

The next thing he knew, the vehicle had backed up and his entire body was illuminated in its white headlights.

_He’s going to run me over,_ Kellin thought, his next scream for help getting strangled in his throat. Seconds later the SUV was barreling towards him, Kellin’s eyes fixed on the blinding white headlights—unable to make himself pull away or crawl any faster. The driver’s side tire was inches from his legs when the man jerked the wheel and the vehicle swerved away from him, but not far enough.

Pain exploded from Kellin’s left foot, his toes crushed under the weight of the SUV’s tire. He let out a shrill scream and thrashed against the pavement, pulling his knees to his chest and sobbing until he couldn’t even gasp for breath as all the pain converged into one endless agony. He had his eyes squeezed shut as he rolled onto his back and then back onto his side, wishing he could find any position that would relieve just one of his many pains. 

Kellin found enough air in his lungs to scream a final time before his body started to burn white-hot, all of the pain consuming him at once until his nerve endings felt fried and nothing else registered in his brain but the fear and the sensation that he was suffocating. His body was on fire and there was a weight on his chest so heavy he couldn’t pull in a fraction of a breath.

That was how they finally found him—laying on the pavement in shock, on his back with his knees up to his chest and his jeans tangled around his legs. No one saw the SUV peeling out of the lot. No one saw it happen, but everyone understood.

( ) ( ) ( )

Kellin should’ve been home hours ago. Vic had tried to keep patient, telling himself that there must’ve been a customer or two who didn’t want to leave the restaurant or maybe someone caused a really big mess… A really, really big mess.

Vic was trying not to panic, but it was hard when Kellin wouldn’t answer any of his calls or texts. It was worse, too, when he finally broke down and called the restaurant only to get no response. 

What if Kellin had been in an accident? What if he’d fallen asleep driving—he was always so tired after work—or what if a drunk driver swerved left of center and hit him? 

At half-past two in the morning, Vic broke down and started calling hospitals asking if Kellin were there. It broke his heart when the second hospital confirmed his worst fear. Someone matching that description had been admitted, but they would need to confirm Vic’s relationship with their patient in person to give out any information. 

As soon as he was off the phone, Vic broke down crying. He was terrified for his boyfriend, so afraid for all that could have gone wrong and fearing everything at once. What if he was on life support? What if he was dying? What if he’d lost a limb? What if he’d been shot in a robbery? What if he’d been messing around with the line cooks and got burned by the fryer?

The thoughts continued to race through his mind as he sped toward the hospital. He tried to compose himself as best he could before hurrying through the ER doors, especially when the first person he saw past the reception desk, waiting in the lobby, was Kellin’s manager. Vic hurried to him instead of the nurse behind the counter, needing to know what had gone wrong and not wanting to waste time on getting through the hospital’s formalities. 

“Brian? Brian, what happened?” Vic asked, scared when he saw more of Kellin’s coworkers sitting in the waiting room chairs. 

Brian’s face paled when his eyes landed on Vic.

“Where’s Kellin?” Vic asked.

“He’s with the doctors. They’re doing an exam—”

“Is he okay?” Vic asked, his mouth running dry as his eyes continued to leak tears.

Brian shook his head and looked down at the floor, torturing Vic with his silence.

“Was there an accident?”

“Someone beat him up pretty bad. We tried calling you but the number Kellin had on his emergency contact sheet says it’s disconnected.”

“What happened to Kellin?” Vic asked again.

“I don’t think… I don’t think I should be the one to tell you that.”

“What _happened!?”_ Vic demanded. He had every terrible idea imaginable in his mind and he was desperate to put an end to it—desperate to be at Kellin’s side.

“We don’t know the details. He went out back for his break… Somebody assaulted him.”

“Like a robbery?” Vic asked, his mind spinning back to the fear that his partner had been shot.

“I think you should sign in and ask the nurses to take you back to him. He’d probably feel a lot safer with you here.”

Vic shook his head and turned his back to Brian, irritated that the man wouldn’t answer him. All he wanted to know was what happened. It was unbearable not knowing, but he tried his best to be patient as he signed in on the guest log and waited for a nurse to take the time to lead him through the double doors to the emergency department. 

He was led past empty exam beds and rooms made of blue curtains, then he was taken around the corner to another hall of curtained off, make-shift rooms where he immediately honed in on the sound of his boyfriend’s voice. 

Kellin was crying out in pain, asking for the doctor or nurse to give him a minute, to stop and let him rest.

“Dr. Eilers? The patient’s boyfriend is here,” the nurse said through the curtain. Seconds later, the blue fabric rippled and a tall man appeared holding the curtain open. The man spoke, but Vic didn’t hear a word—his eyes were fixed on Kellin who lay atop the hospital bed in a green gown. His face was red, both with tears and blood. 

His left foot was propped up on pillows with bandages wrapped around his toes. He had bruises on his neck and his cheeks, but what frightened Vic the most was that his boyfriend didn’t look up when he came into the room. Kellin stayed staring at the ceiling crying heavily—in a state unlike any Vic had ever seen him in before 

“Wh-What happened?” Vic asked, looking from Kellin to the doctor and then back to Kellin.

When Kellin didn’t answer, the doctor asked if he’d like for him to tell Vic instead. Slowly, Kellin nodded then squeezed his eyes shut hard.

“I know this is hard for you to hear, but your partner was sexually assaulted.”

“No,” Vic whimpered, cringing as he looked over his boyfriend. “No. No, no that’s not right. Th-That… Kellin?” Vic couldn’t process it—he didn’t want to. How could something like that happen? Of all the awful things, Vic hadn’t even considered it—now he was staring the aftermath in the face.

Kellin was sniffling, his eyes still pressed shut as if he were trying to make the world disappear around him. His pretty face was bruised and cut, his bottom lip trembling. Vic wanted to rush over to him and kiss him better, but knew it wouldn’t help. He couldn’t touch him… 

All Vic wanted in the world was to wrap Kellin up in his arms and tell him how sorry he was that this had happened, but it would scare him. 

“Kellin?” Vic asked again, getting no response from his boyfriend.

“The police have already taken his statement and they’re looking for his attacker as we speak. His injuries aren’t too severe and we won’t have to keep him overnight. Three of his toes are broken so he will need crutches for the time being. I’ll give you two a moment, but I need to finish the exam before he can be discharged.”

Vic moved a little closer to the bed after the doctor and nurse stepped away and closed the curtain behind them. His partner looked so frail, his face and wrists bruised, his arm bandaged…

“What happened, Kell?” Vic asked softly, daring to place his hand over top Kellin’s on the bed. Kellin sniffled and looked down at their overlapping hands, then slowly curled his fingers around Vic’s until they were gently holding hands. Even his thin fingers had cuts and bruises on them…

“Some crazy guy… I was out back by the dumpsters for my break…stupid thing to do. Stupid, stupid…”

“You always sit by the dumpsters,” Vic said hurriedly. It was the only place Kellin could go to talk privately without any customers or coworkers listening in on their conversations or trying to steal glances at his phone. He didn’t want Kellin to feel stupid or responsible for anything that had happened… He was so beat up—it was clear he’d tried to escape.

“My whole body hurts…”

“What happened to your foot?” Vic asked, looking down at the bandages wrapped around Kellin’s toes.

“He ran it over. Three of my toes are broken,” Kellin said, sniffling again. “I need crutches for a few weeks.”

“Okay,” Vic said, nodding quickly. He wasn’t sure how to respond—he wanted to know everything, but he didn’t want to traumatize Kellin by making him remember. 

There were abrasions on the corners of his mouth and Vic just knew the man had gagged him. The mental images he was getting were torturous to him and he felt so sick to his stomach.

How could this have happened? How? Kellin was kind to everyone. He was polite and friendly and just great to be around. Why would anyone want to hurt him like this? Why would anyone deliberately assault him—then try to run him over with their car?

“I so sorry, Kellin. I-I don’t know how to help. Can I get you anything? Water?”

“No… I just want to go home. They won’t let me wash off.”

“They probably want to collect evidence, huh?” Vic asked, hoping he didn’t sound insensitive. He didn’t want to make Kellin have to think about it. He already looked so stressed out and hopeless.

“They already did… I wanted you to be here, but…they didn’t want to ‘waste time.’”

“No one ever called me, Kellin. I would’ve been here right away. You know that, right? That I’m here for you?” Vic slowly lifted Kellin’s hand and brought it to his lips, kissing it softly before lowering it back down onto the hospital bed.

“I know,” Kellin whispered. “I didn’t update my forms when you changed your number. I didn’t think anything would happen… I’m scared, Vic.”

“It’s okay—don’t be scared. No one’s going to hurt you anymore. I’m here.” Vic stayed with him, holding his hand even as the doctor returned and finished treating the wounds on Kellin’s back and arms. He’d been stabbed three times, strangled, pummeled, nearly run over, and raped.

Kellin… _His_ Kellin had endured all that…

Vic couldn’t wrap his head around it.

By the time they finally let Kellin leave, his boyfriend had almost completely shut down. Vic didn’t know it was from the trauma and the shock or the medicine they gave him, but Kellin didn’t speak a word as he got his prescription filled at the hospital pharmacy, nor did he talk as Vic carefully led him to his car.

Vic had asked if Kellin wanted to wait in the lobby for him to pull his car around so Kellin wouldn’t have to hobble the entire way on his crutches, but Kellin refused. His managers and coworkers had left and he didn’t want to be left alone. Vic understood completely and kept his arm around his boyfriend the entire walk. He had started shaking, too, and kept looking around the parking lot for anyone suspicious. It was his job to protect Kellin and he couldn’t let him down again.

He opened the door for Kellin and held his arm to support him as Kellin slowly dropped down into the seat. The soft whimper he let out as moved shook Vic to his core—hurting him more than any small sound should. 

“Hang in there a little longer, okay? We’ll be home soon.” Vic leaned down and pressed a kiss to the top of Kellin’s head, then gently closed the door before tucking Kellin’s crutches into the backseat and then hurrying around to the driver’s side and getting in.

He spent most of the drive trying to think of something to say, passing sideways glances at Kellin who was sniffling and staring out the window. There was no describing how awful Vic felt for him and how lost he was… He didn’t know what to do to make him feel better or if anything could help. All he knew was that he wanted to get Kellin home where he was safe—where no one could touch him. 

When they finally arrived, Vic helped Kellin out of the car, but as soon as they stepped into their apartment, Kellin locked himself in the bathroom. Vic gave him his space, but found himself pacing awkwardly past the bathroom door every few minutes—listening to the sounds of the shower running, listening to the noise of Kellin crying—paranoid that someone might try to break in and get ahold of Kellin.

Kellin left the bathroom after nearly an hour and a half, the towel wrapped securely around his waist but his shoulders and arms bare. Vic’s stomach churned as he looked over the bruises and scratches littering his boyfriend’s stomach and back as he hobbled past on his crutches, heading to their bedroom. He’d taken off the bandages around his arm and stomach to shower, but the wrapping on his foot remained and appeared to be mostly dry. 

Vic followed him slowly to the bedroom and helped Kellin reapply his bandages and gather his night clothes. He was careful to apply the antibacterial ointment over his deepest cuts and wounds, then gingerly wrapped the gauze strips around his forearm and torso. The whole time, Kellin stared down at the floor, his eyes bloodshot and hazy. Slowly, Kellin sat down on the bed and pulled his shirt on over his head, but hesitated before changing into his pajama pants.

“I’m… I’m sorry. Can you… Can you leave or turn around or something?” He asked, chewing his lip and staring down at his lap.

“Of course,” Vic said, trying not to sound hurt at all as he left the room and closed the door behind him. He listened as Kellin struggled to stand up and had to fight to stay put when he heard Kellin start whimpering in pain as he dressed himself.

Vic was so worried for the future now—terrified of how great a toll this could take on their relationship if he wasn’t careful. More than anything, he wanted Kellin to be better—to get better—but he didn’t know how long that would take or what he could do to help even a little bit. He was so afraid for Kellin… What if he fell into depression? What if he hurt himself? What if something went wrong in his recovery?

There was so much at stake and the pressure was crushing him—but Vic knew that no matter how sad or sick he felt, Kellin felt it stronger. Kellin had to endure the pain; Vic just had to witness the aftermath. Hell, he hadn’t even been there for Kellin’s exam or his treatment. He hadn’t even witnessed _half_ of the aftermath of what that sick man had done.

That man who was still out there on the loose…

“Vic?”

At the sound of his name, Vic hurried back into the bedroom where he found Kellin still sitting in the same place. He went to his side and pressed his lips to Kellin’s warm temple, earning a soft sigh from his partner. Vic was relieved Kellin allowed it to happen, not sure what he’d do with himself if he couldn’t show his affections physically at all. He understood it took time, but how else could he show Kellin he still cared when words sounded hollow and intimacy was off-limits?

“Are you going to sleep here tonight?” Kellin asked, looking at Vic very briefly before turning his eyes back down to his lap.

“If you want me to,” Vic said gently. “I don’t want you to be uncomfortable, though. If you want me to sleep on the couch for a few nights, that’s fine. I don’t mind.”

“Stay here—Please? Please?” There was so much fear and urgency in his eyes, like he was panicked at the thought of Vic leaving him alone. As if he thought Vic _wanted_ to be apart from him.

“I will,” Vic said, trying to smile. “Don’t worry. I’m here.” Kellin’s gaze softened, returned to being hazy, then he closed his eyes and slowly laid back on the bed—his face tensing with pain as he moved. It killed Vic to see him that way… To know _why_ he was that way. He couldn’t stop the images in his head—the grotesque nightmares his imagination was already giving him of Kellin being stabbed, being bound…being _hurt_ in that God-awful way. “I’m going to change clothes and get your medicine, okay?”

“Okay,” Kellin whispered, his eyes still squeezed shut. 

As quickly as he could, Vic gathered some pajamas and left the room. He changed in the hallway just outside the door and then went into the kitchen to get Kellin’s pills and a glass of water. He knocked before coming back into the bedroom and tried to offer Kellin a smile as he neared the bed and sat down. 

“You just need to take your pills, then we can go to sleep, okay?” Vic said, trying his best to keep his voice gentle. Kellin stared at the prescription bag in Vic’s hand a moment, then took it from him and read the labels before uncapping each one and shaking out as many doses as he needed. Two from one bottle, three from another, one from another two… Antibiotics, steroids, anti-retrovirals, pain killers, sleeping pills….

Not thirty minutes after swallowing down the cocktail, Kellin started feeling sick. He was shivering under the blanket and gagged whenever he took sips of water. Vic was afraid he’d throw up the medicine and have to take another dose. It was torture to watch him suffer like this—to be helpless as Kellin coughed and shivered and began to sob. 

“I just want to sleep,” Kellin cried, shaking as he lay under the pile of blankets.

“I know, Baby. I know… I’m sorry.” Vic scooted closer and tried putting an arm over Kellin’s chest to hold him, but his boyfriend whimpered and shifted around until Vic pulled away. “I wish I could help. I do…”

“I’m so tired,” Kellin insisted, as if Vic didn’t believe him. 

“I know. Just try to relax, Baby. I know it hurts, but I’m here.” 

Kellin hardly slept at all that night despite the drugs. He would go quiet for a few minutes, just long enough for Vic to fall asleep, then he’d twitch or sob or cry out from a bad dream and the cycle started all over again.

Vic slipped out of bed around six in the morning to call off work, explaining as vaguely as possible that his partner had been hurt badly and he needed to stay home to care for him.

After that he returned to the bedroom and sat at Kellin’s side, gently stroking his hair until Kellin quieted down and fell back asleep. 

Vic laid beside him and put a gentle arm around Kellin’s shoulders, holding him gently as he slept. He wished there was more he could do to help—something he could say that would take all the pain away. It haunted him to know that Kellin’s attacker was still out there and that they didn’t know who it was. How was he supposed to protect Kellin from this man if he couldn’t even identify him if he walked up the door pretending to be the postman.

He didn’t know how yet, but Vic was determined to help Kellin recover—no matter it what it took or for how long. He’d never give up on Kellin or let him slip away into depression. For Kellin, Vic would do whatever it took…


	2. Chapter 2

Kellin had stayed in bed for most of three days after the tragedy. He barely moved, he hardly ate or drank anything, and after the first day he ceased talking in full sentences. Vic could get a word here or there, but mostly Kellin communicated through gestures or not at all. He spent a lot of time pretending to watch movies on Netflix, but the screen turned dark more often than it stayed on—timing out while Kellin stared absently at the screen.

Vic tried his best to care for him. He brought him food he wouldn’t eat and drinks he hardly touched, made sure he had enough pillows and blankets, and saw to it he took all his medications on time. That seemed to be the hardest part. Kellin would get bleary eyed every time Vic would bring him the pills, and Vic didn’t know if it was because he was in pain because the pills wore off or if the pills upset his stomach. Or maybe taking the anti-retrovirals reminded him of what happened and how serious it could be…

The pills were meant to block the virus if the man who assaulted him at HIV, but Kellin would still have to go back for follow up testing every three months just to be sure they worked. Vic knew that had to be weighing heavily on his partner’s mind, and he didn’t know how to reassure him that even if they didn’t work—even if the very worst possible disease resulted from this—he wouldn’t leave. He loved Kellin more than the world and nothing was going to take him away. Not ever.

“Kellin? I made some lunch. Do you want any?” Vic peered into the dark bedroom, looking at Kellin who lay on his side in bed like always. 

Kellin looked up at him, his big eyes meeting Vic’s and staying there—a silent “yes” if not an eager “yes, please.” There was a bit more light in his eyes today and for that Vic was thankful as he smiled and returned to the kitchen to prepare a plate. He made one for himself as well and sat on the bed beside Kellin to eat. 

For the most part, they were silent. Kellin had started watching old episodes of _Futurama,_ though his eyes never left his plate once he’d started eating, and Vic tuned in and out of the show. He was focused on Kellin, taking note of how well he was eating today and hating that he was going to have to bring out the pills in a little while. That always zapped the life out of Kellin and left him feeling exhausted and sick.

“When are you going back to work?” Kellin asked, not looking up from his plate. It was the most he’d said in a while. 

“Don’t worry about it. I still have vacation days I can use.”

“Some vacation… Waiting on me hand and foot.”

“Hey. There’s no place else I’d rather be, alright? I love you. I want to take care of you and get you better.”

“What if I can’t?”

“What do you mean?” Vic asked, setting his plate aside so he could move closer and stroke Kellin’s hair. Kellin flinched at first, but then slowly settled down once he’d adjusted to being touched. 

“What if I can’t get better? What if I’m always like this from now on?”

“It just takes time, Kell. I’m here for you. I’m not going anywhere, alright? Do you believe me?”

Kellin sighed quietly and rolled over onto his back, his plate laying dangerously close to the edge of the bed at his side. He stared up at Vic with the same pain and sadness that had been in his eyes at the Emergency Room, but didn’t say anything. He was scared and Vic didn’t know how to help him.

“I’m not going anywhere,” Vic repeated, holding one of Kellin’s hands before bringing it to his lips. He kissed the knuckles gently and pressed the backs of Kellin’s fingers to his cheek. It was the most intimacy he could get these days, but Vic would take what he could get. At night, Kellin would sleep close to him out of fear, but it wasn’t the same. It wasn’t like what they used to have.

Kellin squeezed Vic’s hand, then pulled it down to his chest—tugging Vic down against him and leaning up for a kiss. Vic smiled as he kissed back gently, rubbing his nose against Kellin’s as he pulled away.

Kellin pushed his plate away with less than half of it eaten and laid back on the bed, his eyes closed. 

“Not hungry?” Vic asked, receiving no reply. “I’ll go get your pills,” he added after a few minutes more of silence. He took his plate to the kitchen, but left Kellin’s on the bed in hopes that his boyfriend might eat a little more before he got back. 

The pills he shook out into his hands were all different sizes and different colors—so many different chemicals being shoved down Kellin’s throat to ward off so many diseases and ailments. It was a miracle, Vic thought, that the cocktail wasn’t lethal. It made Kellin sick enough, though… He would feel nauseated within minutes and spend the rest of his day uncomfortable and dry heaving into the trashcan beside the bed until there were tears rolling down his cheeks. 

It felt so cruel to do this to him, but Vic knew they had no other choice. The man had not been caught yet, and until then they wouldn’t be sure if he had any diseases or infections. Vic really hoped they caught that awful man soon… The police had his description and a description of his vehicle—he was known as a regular at the restaurant and his regular server recalled his name as Martin. There were so many details about him, so why was he still on the loose after committing such an atrocious crime?

He deserved to pay for what he’d done to Kellin. 

“Okay. I have your pills,” Vic said, returning to the bedroom with the handful of pills and a bottle of water. 

Kellin was laying on his back, his hands covering his eyes and a discernable frown tugging at the corners of his mouth. He already looked on the verge of sobbing and Vic felt awful when he pulled one of Kellin’s hands away from his face. 

“Hey… I know you don’t like them, but it’s that time,” Vic said, stroking Kellin’s hand.

“I don’t want them,” Kellin whimpered, pulling his hand away from Vic and covering his eyes again.

“I know… I’m sorry, Baby, but you have to take them. Okay? We have to get you better.”

“They don’t make me better. They make me so sick—they make me sick,” Kellin cried. It broke Vic’s heart to see him that way. It wasn’t like Kellin at all to cry so easily… At least not before the attack, anyway. 

“I know. But you have to… Just a few more days, Kell.”

Kellin continued to whimper up until Vic got him to swallow down the mixture of drugs, then he let out a loud sob and laid back against the pillows covering his eyes again. It hurt so much to see him that way… To know the medicine he needed to keep him healthy made him feel so weak and ill.

Slowly, Vic picked up the discarded plate of food he’d brought Kellin earlier. There was still so much left and he knew that eating would help lessen the discomfort of the pills, but Kellin never really cared to eat now—a stark contrast to how he’d been before. Hardly a minute used to go by without Kellin calling out that he was hungry or digging through the cupboards in search of a snack.

“Do you want any more to eat?” Vic asked gently.

“No,” Kellin said.

“Are you sure?” Vic asked, looking down at the plate in his hand.

“Yes.”

“Kellin, you need to eat more…”

“I said I’m not hungry!” Kellin snapped, and all at once the plate which had been in Vic’s hand was struck hard enough that it overturned and spilled half on the bed sheets and half on the bedroom floor. 

“Kellin!” Vic barked, glaring down at the mess on the sheets and carpet that he was now going to have to clean. He understood that Kellin was stressed and sick and upset, but there was no reason to act that way. It was hard not to get frustrated or lose his patience given how emotional and demanding Kellin had been for the past few days but Vic did everything he could to keep his cool and never let on that he felt anything more than pity and love for his partner. 

He’d kept up the guise, too, until Kellin looked over at him and saw the anger in his face. Immediately, Kellin’s face went slack and he looked close to tears again—his blue eyes going wide as he started to stammer out apologies.

“It’s fine,” Vic said, his words too clipped for his own liking as he started trying to scoop the bits of food back onto the plate. Kellin tried to help pick the food off the bedding, but Vic pushed his hands out of the way and did it himself. He wanted to reassure Kellin that it was alright and that he understood, but the words wouldn’t come. He was frustrated and he knew his voice would just come out sounding irritated. 

“I’m sorry,” Kellin said urgently. He shifted around on the bed as Vic started wiping up the food on the carpet. “Vic, I’m so sorry.”

“It’s fine,” Vic repeated, his tone not any better. “I’m going to get the cleaner,” he added as he stood up from the floor, plate in hand.

“I’m sorry,” Kellin repeated, leaning over the edge of the bed. “Vic? I-I’m sorry!” He called as Vic started walking away; then he made to stand up. In his haste he must’ve forgotten his broken toes, because he tried to stand on his bad foot first and immediately let out a scream and fell onto the ground in a pile beside the stain. 

“Kellin!” Vic called, his worry and frustration growing at the same time as he hurried back to Kellin’s side and put an arm around him. “You need to be careful!”

“I’m sorry!” Kellin sobbed, gritting his teeth against the pain as Vic helped him back up onto the bed. “I’m sorry, Vic.”

“I know. I know you are, but you need to take care of yourself. You have to eat and you have to be _careful._ I don’t want anything else bad to happen to you. I hate seeing you hurt like this…” Vic forced a kiss onto Kellin’s temple, then set to cleaning up the sheets and carpet. 

By the time he had finished, Kellin was curled up on his side and gagging from the effects of his pills. He would lay there feeling sick for hours, breaking Vic’s heart with every soft whimper and groan. 

( ) ( ) ( )

Kellin had trouble sleeping most nights, even with Vic at his side and pills in his system. He was afraid to sleep after swallowing the pills, scared he wouldn’t wake up if someone broke in—terrified that he’d be a sitting target when the man came back for him.

Sleep came easier during the day when Vic was home, but tomorrow Vic was going back to work. Kellin didn’t know why the news devastated him so much when he’d literally been counting down the days as they passed, but he started crying when Vic reminded him. The thought of sitting in the house all alone was terrifying and daunting. Knowing he’d be responsible for taking his own medications was terrifying… Everything about the situation scared him to death and he spent the whole day clutching onto his boyfriend as if it would somehow make him change his mind and stay.

Vic kept reassuring him that it would be alright and that he’d come home if anything happened and Kellin called for him, but it didn’t change anything. Kellin was going to be alone—alone in the house and alone with his thoughts. 

“I wish you could stay home just one more day,” Kellin murmured from his place on the couch. He had his face buried in Vic’s neck, hiding how ashamed he was of the guilt-trip he was trying to pull. He felt so much like a disrespectful, selfish child as he said it, but Vic responded with none of the resentment that Kellin deserved.

“I know… I wish I could,” Vic whispered, squeezing Kellin a little tighter.

“I don’t want to be here by myself…”

“I know. I’m so sorry, Kell. I’d stay if I could. You know that, right?”

“Yeah…” He was still trying to think of a way to keep Vic with him, even though he knew it was pointless. Vic had to go… One of them needed to work in order to pay bills. 

But what if the man had found him? What if he’d been laying in wait for days—just anticipating that Vic would leave and waiting to get another chance at Kellin’s body? He’d tried to take Kellin _home_ with him—he wasn’t about to just let him escape after one attempt, was he? 

What if the very minute Vic stepped out the door tomorrow morning, _he_ barged in? He would be angrier and better prepared… He’d torture Kellin in his own bed before dragging him back into his SUV and stealing him. Then it would be nothing but pain and suffering until the psychopath decided to murder him.

Kellin felt the hot tears rolling down his cheeks, but couldn’t do anything to stop them. Vic’s shirt collar was soaked through in a matter of seconds and his boyfriend let out a sad coo as he wrapped both his arms around Kellin’s shoulders and squeezed him tight.

“Hey—No, no. Don’t cry. It’s okay. You’re going to be alright, Kellin. Okay? Nothing bad is going to happen, I promise.”

“But you don’t _know_ that!” Kellin sobbed. “I can’t run away this time. If he comes for me, I can’t fight!”

“He won’t, Kell. He doesn’t know where we live. If he did…” Vic let out a pained sigh. “He… He was stalking you at work, watching you there. If he knew where we lived, he would’ve tried to get you here first. You’re alone here more often than you are at work. You’re safe here.”

The thought of being preyed on at all—either at work or in his home—made Kellin start sobbing as he clutched on to Vic’s chest. Vic just shushed him and cradled him like a child, never losing his patience no matter how many times they’d gone through this routine in the past.

“I wish I could stay, Kell. I really do. I wouldn’t leave you for the world if I didn’t have to… But I have to get paid… We don’t have any food in the house. You know that…”

“I just wish I could be with you. I really don’t want to be alone, Vic. He’s going to come back for me—”

“He’s not. I promise you, Kellin. He’s not coming back. You’re safe here; you’ll see.” Vic kept reassuring him and trying to comfort him, but it didn’t help at all. Kellin stayed on edge and didn’t sleep a wink that night. He laid awake at Vic’s side, clutching desperately onto his boyfriend’s hand and flinching at every sound he heard until the dim glow of morning poked through the curtains. 

Vic gave him a kiss good morning, then climbed out of bed to get his shower. Kellin felt thirty degrees colder when Vic wasn’t beside him under the sheets. His entire body started shivering and no matter what he did, he couldn’t stop the tremors. 

“Maybe I can come home on my lunch break,” Vic said, standing in the doorway toweling his hair dry. He sounded so sad and disappointed, and it broke Kellin’s heart to know he’d gone from being an equal partner to such a burden. 

“You don’t need to do that,” he forced himself to say. 

“You sure? I… I’m worried about you, Kellin. I know you’re scared and… I don’t know. I don’t want you to feel like I’m abandoning you. I really don’t want to go.”

“I know… I’ll be okay. I… I’ll just miss you.”

“I’ll miss you too,” Vic said, frowning before giving Kellin a kiss and finishing getting dressed. 

After dressing, Vic came over to the bed and gave Kellin one last kiss goodbye, smoothing his hair a little as he whispered out a promise that he’d be home as soon as he could.

“Call me if you need me. I’ll answer. Okay?”

“Okay,” Kellin whispered, staring Vic in the eyes and pleading with him silently not to go.

“I love you.”

“I love you, too,” Kellin said, almost desperately. His desperation did nothing to change the outcome. Vic frowned and left, closing the bedroom door behind him as he went. Kellin laid in the bed trembling, coldness washing over him as if he’d been dumped into a bucket of ice water. 

He could feel himself convulsing with sobs, but felt so distant from his own body at the same time. It was as if Vic had been his anchor to the world and, without him, his mind was set adrift—aimless. 

All day he laid in the bed, trembling at every noise and fighting with himself over whether or not he really had to take his pills. Vic would be disappointed in him if he didn’t, but it was so hard to force those awful, toxic capsules down his throat. Kellin gagged around them, nearly vomited them back up the minute he took his pills—but he knew that would just mean another trip to the pharmacy to get replacement doses. And that was a trip he didn’t want to have to make.

The pills left him practically immobile—nauseating him and torturing him for hours on end. In the distance he could hear his cell phone pinging, alerting him that someone was trying to get in contact with him, but he felt so far away that it was impossible to grab the phone to answer. His mind was gone, transported back to the SUV and the fabric seats. He played it over in his head, trying to take control of the memory instead of letting it control him.

It didn’t work. He felt the knife in his arm, felt his pride trickling away with the blood. All over again he was tortured with the humiliation of having that man pull away his clothing and bare him. Again he felt his face burn hot as his flesh played out the memories of that man’s heavy palm slapping against his thighs until he’d turned them “cherry red.”

That was what he’d murmured… Cherry red. Kellin hadn’t ever been so humiliated in his entire life.

Why had he never noticed the man watching him before? Why didn’t he realize before it was too late that he was being targeted? He should’ve gone into the kitchen the moment that man approached him. He should’ve spent less time asking questions and more time fighting. He shouldn’t have let the man get him alone…

He shouldn’t have been trying so hard to text Vic while he was at work.

He never did get that dinner…

“Kellin? Kellin!?” 

The voice sounded at first so distant, then it was blaring in his ear and Kellin jerked himself upright in the bed, his chest heaving as he stared at his attacker—his boyfriend. Vic.

“Wh-What?” Kellin stammered, his heart pounding as he glanced around the room. It was dark now and the only light in the room came from the open doorway. 

“You scared me!” Vic cried, his voice shaking a little. “You haven’t texted me back all day. I thought something happened… I had Mike come by but he said you wouldn’t answer the door. What… What happened?”

Kellin stared at him, still stammering. He couldn’t recall hearing anyone at the door and that frightened him immensely. He wasn’t sure if he had slept at all or if he’d just been that wrapped up in his thoughts, but either way it scared him that could overlook someone pounding on his door—trying to get to him.

“Kellin? Please… I-I don’t understand. You were supposed to text me back so I’d know you were okay… I left work early, Kell. You… You scared me to death.” Vic looked as if he were about to cry and that left Kellin feeling even worse. It was never his intention to hurt his partner, but he knew that would be the outcome when he never mustered the strength to reach for his phone and text back.

“I-I’m sorry… I-I took my pills. I… I didn’t hear anyone. I was…I was having bad dreams.”

Vic just stared at him, still looking like he was about to cry. 

“I’m sorry. I don’t know what happened. If I’d heard him knock, I… I would’ve panicked. I would’ve called you. I didn’t hear anything.”

“Maybe… Maybe he lied about coming over… Maybe he didn’t make it,” Vic said, looking away before slowly sitting down at Kellin’s side on the mattress. His shoulders were shaking just slightly and Kellin chewed his lip as he stared at his boyfriend, trying to think of something to say. “You scared me…”

Not knowing what else to do, Kellin slowly wound his arms around Vic’s shoulders. He shook the entire time, fearing that Vic would jerk away from him or snap at him in some way. Instead, his boyfriend just sighed and quickly returned the embrace, squeezing Kellin tightly and kissing his cheek. 

“I really don’t want to lose you, Kellin. I love you so much,” Vic whispered.

“I love you too,” Kellin said, sniffling as he buried his face in Vic’s shoulder. He felt so guilty for missing all the texts and calls—for missing Mike at the door—but was terrified that he didn’t hear any of it. What if someone tried to break in? Would he not hear any of that either?

He felt so helpless and even more frightened than before. He wished Vic didn’t need to work, just so he wouldn’t have to be alone—so he’d never go that deep into his thoughts again. 

There was no need to relive it like that. He’d suffered through it once—why experience it all over again?

They stayed in bed together for a long time, holding each other and then slowly moving toward small kisses until Vic stepped away to make food. Kellin wanted to follow him, but his good leg shook horribly when he tried to stand with his crutches and he had to sit back down, afraid he wouldn’t make it to the kitchen table. A little while later, Vic came back for him and helped him walk to the kitchen with a protective arm around his shoulders so he wouldn’t fall. 

“What did you make me for dinner that night?” Kellin asked as they slowly began eating their meal. 

Vic looked up at him a bit uncomfortably, then mumbled chicken and rice. 

“Nothing good. Nothing worth worrying about,” he added. 

“I like your chicken,” Kellin said, looking up from his plate just briefly. The conversation had made Vic uncomfortable and for that he was sorry. He cursed himself for asking such a dumb question in the first place and kept his head down the rest of the time that he ate. 

Vic told him about work that day and Kellin nodded as if he were listening, though his mind was miles and miles away. He realized, as Vic was speaking, that it would be a long time before he could ever go back to work… As it was, he was terrified of leaving the house and the thought of ever returning to the restaurant made his stomach flip uncontrollably. 

_Am I ever going to feel normal again?_ The question left Kellin completely baffled and feeling helpless. It robbed him of his appetite but he kept forcing forkful after forkful of flavorless food into his mouth until Vic helped him to hobble into the bathroom so he could shower. 

Bathing with the stupid cast was a pain since he had to wrap it in plastic bags to keep it dry and try to balance on one foot to shower without falling down. It was such a painful process, not just because he had to stand up and endure the heavy water pressure on his bruises, but from the emotions that swelled up as well. 

He expected the showers to make him feel clean again, but it didn’t work. He was made to see all his marks, made to feel every twinge of pain. The stream of water felt like fingers raking down his back, curving around his intimate places. He thought that sitting in a bath might make him feel better, but with his bad foot, he feared it would be too hard to stand back up without help—and he didn’t yet feel up to have Vic touching him while he was unclothed.

The aversion, the feeling of his heart racing with _fear_ at the thought of Vic touching him, brought tears to Kellin’s eyes as washed off. He missed what they’d had before. He missed sneaking into Vic’s showers and having Vic slip into his. He missed being close and he was so unbelievably terrified that the distance he needed was going to drive them apart.

Why would Vic wait around for permission to touch what was rightfully his? Why would Vic do anything other than take him by force or abandon him. 

And just the thought of Vic grabbing him like that man had caused Kellin to burst into tears. It was something he never dreamed Vic could be capable of and now the thought taunted him. What would he do if Vic turned on him? What would he do if Vic gave him the ultimatum?—Sleep with me or move out.

He’d fought so hard to avoid being taken and now he still felt like a prisoner, trapped by his own dark thoughts.

But he didn’t want Vic to know that, so he merely cried until he knew it was time to get out of the shower, then dressed himself and limped off to bed. Vic laid down beside him and pressed kisses onto his forehead and cheeks as he pulled the blankets up closer and closer to Kellin’s chin.

“I love you so much, Baby,” Vic said, continuing to ruffle the blankets as he settled down at Kellin’s side.

“I love you too,” Kellin whispered, not able to look his partner in the eye. He meant the words, but they frightened him now. Vic was all he had left—all he felt connected to anyway—and he was so scared of what that love could make him do. 

“I can stay home tomorrow if you need me,” Vic said, looking hurt as he made the offer. He knew he’d lose his job if he stayed, but he still made the offer.

“One of us has to work… I’m sorry. I-I’m sorry for all of this,” Kellin whispered, shifting his face to hide it with the blankets so Vic couldn’t see him start crying.

“Hey—Don’t apologize. Hey… Kellin. Kell, don’t cry. It’s not your fault. Nothing that happened was your fault, Kell.”

He kept whispering it over and over, and all Kellin could do was shift closer and bury his face in his partner’s chest—wishing he could just go back to that night and stay inside the restaurant for his break. Why couldn’t he have just sat at the break room table and text Vic there? Then the man would have never seen him—would have never caught him.

“Kell… It’s going to be okay. I promise,” Vic whispered, pressing kisses to Kellin’s forehead. “I promise, Baby. I’m here for you. I’ll be here.”

He made all kinds of promises, but for Kellin they were almost too ideal to believe. How could Vic promise to never leave him?—Didn’t he know his “perfect” boyfriend had become little more than damaged goods? Didn’t he care that he was getting the raw end of the deal?

Apparently not… Apparently not.


End file.
